Spark of Hope: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 3: An MC/Band of Brothers Romance

by Kathleen Kelly

  There’s a strength to her words, and if I don’t find out what’s happened to Lola, she and Arthur are going to go to the police.

  “I’ll find her,” I state with confidence I don’t feel.

  Annie smiles, then turns to Arthur. “Coffee?”

  I turn and jog down the stairs to my men.

  Sean is studying me, hands on his hips and eyebrows raised. “Well?”

  “Lola’s been taken. Ring Angus, tell him we’re coming, and we…” I pause, searching for the right words, “… I need him.”

  Kyle

  This isn’t a club problem. As much as I want to rain war on whoever took Lola, I haven’t made her my old lady. Of course, I don’t share what’s mine, but I haven’t taken that leap. To be honest, I didn’t see a need. I love Lola, and Lola loves me. It’s not something I’ve ever questioned. For me, marriage is about children, and that’s not something I’ve ever been interested in. As the head of my family and the MC, I take care of a lot of people, and adding children to that felt redundant. My brothers will carry on the family name, so what’s the point?

  I’m in the club meeting room, the place we hold church. I’ve watched the video of Lola’s abduction at least twenty times. Waiting for Angus to arrive is torture. The things he does with a computer baffle me. He’s like a savant with code but looking at this, what can he do? It shows a guy arguing with Lola, another guy knocking her out, and I’m assuming an unknown person driving the van. So, at least three people.

  “Why’d the mother ring you today?”

  I flick my eyes up to Cutter, who’s got a sandwich in one hand and has a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

  “What do you mean?”

  He takes a bite of his sandwich and talks to me through his mouthful. “That junkie-whore only calls when she wants something. Why’d she call today? Something’s not right.” Crumbs fall out of his mouth onto the table as he speaks.

  Leaning back, I tap my chin. “You’re right. You think she’s involved?”

  “Looks like a duck, sounds like a duck. You get the picture.”

  Sean is walking toward us with Angus following close behind. He knocks on the glass door once, opens it, and both of them walk through. Angus is dressed in his normal attire— skinny black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black hoodie with black wraparounds on. Under his arm is a laptop. Angus removes his glasses and smiles at me with dark circles beneath his eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

  “You look like shit.”

  He nods. “Yeah, been doing some work for a large conglomerate who’s being attacked by a hacker.”

  “You catch them?”

  “They’re sneaky fuckers, but they’ll make a mistake, they always do.” As he speaks, he hooks up his computer to Mr. Beetson’s laptop. Without even being told anything, he then swivels the screen away from me and begins tapping on his keyboard.

  “How long has she been missing?” asks Angus.

  Glancing at the watch on my wrist, which was a present from Lola, I say, “She dropped Annie home at eleven. It’s four now, so about five hours.”

  “Shit,” mutters Angus.

  “What?” I ask.

  “That’s a lot of lead time. It’s going to take me a while to go through camera footage of the area and track the van.”

  Sean pulls out a chair to sit, but Angus holds up a hand to stop him.

  “I need Red Bull. I need at least six.”

  “Do I look like your fucking maid?” asks Sean.

  “No, but I’m tired, and this is going to take a while.”

  Sean scowls in disgust at his younger sibling then looks to me. I nod.

  He points at Angus. “This is the first and last time you treat me like a dog, brother.”

  Angus waits until he leaves and shuts the door. “You need to keep him out of this.”

  “Why?”

  “Remember what he did when Cherie was taken? We can’t have that kind of heat on us so soon. Keep him insulated.”

  I’m the eldest brother of the six of us. Well, seven if you include Heather, but she’s been dead for a while now. Her death broke us. Heather was murdered in a car bomb, and we thought Maddock, our brother, went with her. Well, I did, but Angus kept following leads. He never believed Mad was dead. Getting Mad back after so many years helped to heal us. We found him in witness protection. Let’s say I’ve learned to trust Angus’ instincts. But not in this case. Sean will do what I might not be able to do to get Lola back.

  “I’ll keep him on a short leash. Besides, with Beth here, he’s not as keen to put himself in the firing line like he used to.”

  Angus nods. “Beth has been good for him. Hell, he rides like an old lady since she moved here.”

  Cutter barks out a laugh, and when Sean comes back through the door, he smirks at him.

  “What the fuck are you smiling about?” asks Sean.

  “Nothin’. You look good, man,” replies Cutter.

  “Fuck you, Cutter.” Sean’s gaze comes back to me. “Has the boy genius found anything?”

  I raise an eyebrow at Angus, who shakes his head and says, “Not yet.”

  Standing, I stretch out, crack my neck from side to side, and rest my hands on the top of the chair. I lock eyes with Cutter. “Lola was up and dressed this morning to take Annie to church.”

  “And?” asks Cutter.

  I shake my head. “It’s not like her. She’s not a morning person. Lola was up to something, and she didn’t want me to know about it.” I stare down at Angus. “Can you pull her cell-phone records?”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  Shaking my head at him, Angus opens a can of Red Bull, cracks his knuckles, and goes back to tapping away on the keyboard. I gesture for the other two to leave him alone, and we all move out of the room.

  “What now?” asks Sean.

  “I can’t wait here doing nothing. Let’s take a ride to Lola’s mother’s house. See what we can see.”

  “You going to question her?” asks Cutter with an eerie grin. The man is loyal, but he’s creepy as fuck when it comes to some things. You should see him around fire. The man has mad skills when it comes to making it appear like an accident. I’ve witnessed Cutter burn down a shack with bodies inside, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Yeah, but that’s all.”

  “Aww, fuck, Kyle. Let me do it. You stay here,” says Sean.

  “This isn’t club business. It’s personal.”

  Sean shrugs, and Cutter gives a slight shake of his head.

  “She’s not my old lady.”

  “When was the last time you fucked someone else?” asks Sean.

  I scowl at him. “It’s been a while.”

  “Lola is family.”

  And for Sean, it’s that easy. Lola is mine, so she’s MC and family all rolled into one.

  “I can’t stay here. I’ll go mad if I don’t do something. Angus can call if he finds anything. I’m going.”

  Cutter shrugs. “Wheels can watch over the club.”

  Wheels is my Sergeant-at-Arms and a founding member of the Loyal Rebels MC. Lately, he’s been distant. I’ve been waiting on him to come to me, but as of yet, that hasn’t happened. Wheels is married with a couple of kids. His wife, Deedee, has never liked the MC, which is funny because she used to be a club whore until Wheels claimed her. Never understood the attraction, but he chased her from the get-go, then made her his old lady and wasted no time knocking her up. Deedee was a party girl, still is when Wheels isn’t around.

  “Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my face and give Sean a sideways glance. “He said anything to you lately about his home life?”

  “Nah. Everything seems kosher there.”

  Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there. I pull my cell out of my pocket and call him.

  “Yeah,” answers Wheels.

  “Where you at?”

  “Not far, Prez. Did you get a line on Lola? I’m o
ver in the shed working on the Chevy. You need me?”

  “No, man. I need you to watch over things for a bit. I’m going to see Lola’s family.”

  “I should go with you.” The disapproval in his voice loud and clear that I shouldn’t be going alone.

  “I need you here.”

  Unlike Sean, Wheels knows better than to argue with me.

  “You got it.”

  I hang up and quirk an eyebrow at Sean. “I still think he’s got something going on at home.” I don’t have time right now to be worried about someone else.

  “I’ll pay them a visit one day this week.”

  “Good. Okay, let’s ride.”

  It takes a little over an hour to get to Lola’s mom’s house. I’ve never met the woman. We pull up and park on the street. The grass out front is overgrown, much like all the other houses. Everything in this neighborhood looks unkept. Sean is the first off his bike.

  “You want to head in?” he asks as he slides his glasses down his nose and stares at me over the top.

  Climbing off my bike, I take in my surroundings. A curtain moves inside the house, and I say, “Someone’s home.”

  “I’m going to go around back,” says Cutter. “Holler if you need me.”

  I wait until he’s halfway down the side of the house before I walk up the path to knock on the door. Sean stands behind me off to one side, hand behind his back, probably on a gun. He’s nothing if not prepared. I pound on the door with the side of my fist, and the paint falls off, flaking bits of red onto the porch at my feet. There’s a noise inside, could be the television, but it sounds more like muffled voices from at least two people.

  The door cracks an inch, showing me a sliver of an older female’s face. “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Cartland?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  I’m not in the mood to fuck around, so I put my hand on the door and push it back. The woman gasps and tries pathetically to keep me from entering. She ends up on her ass on the floor.

  “Get the fuck out!” she screams.

  Sean walks past me to check the rest of the house. I kick the door shut and stare down at her. She has a meth mouth, bad breath, her blonde hair is thinning and greasy, and judging by her glassy expression, she’s high. Crab-crawling backward away from me, she stops when she hits the wall.

  I crouch down and peer her in the eyes. “Are you Mrs. Cartland?” She nods. “I’m Kyle MacKenny, Lola’s boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ feels foreign in my mouth. We’re so much more than that.

  “Why’d you barge in here?”

  Ignoring her question, I ask, “Have you seen Lola?”

  The woman drops her gaze to my chest and shakes her head.

  I stand, lips pursed, and crack my knuckles. “Mrs. Cartland, I don’t believe you. Now, I need you to hear this. Your daughter is mine. No one messes with what’s mine, so I’m going to ask you once more. Have. You. Seen. Lola?”

  She shakes her head again and then covers her head with her arms as though she’s waiting for me to strike a blow. It’s disturbing to see a woman so used to being hit. I’ve never hurt a woman, and I’m not about to start now.

  “Sean,” I yell.

  He comes into the room with a boy of about fifteen. Sean has him by the collar of his shirt and frog-marches him to me.

  “Look what I found.”

  “Fuck you, you prick!”

  Sean hits him up the side of his head, and the kid’s eyes go wild. He thrashes about, and Sean laughs. “Feisty little fucker, aren’t you?”

  I glance at Mrs. Cartland, but she’s in the same position.

  So I take a step toward the kid. “Who are you?”

  “None of your fucking business,” he hisses.

  Sighing in frustration, I scrub my hands over my face and stare up at the ceiling. “Let him go.”

  “What?”

  I level Sean with a stare. “Let him go, and you…” I point to Mrs. Cartland, “… get up.”

  Sean lets the little fucker go and pushes him forward.

  The kid’s face screws up in a scowl. “What did you do to her?” he demands.

  “Nothing,” I reply coldly.

  Mrs. Cartland pushes herself up the wall, then wraps her arms around herself.

  The kid rushes over and cups her face. “Mom, are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “Mom?” Sean and I both state at once.

  Cutter walks in from the back of the house. “No one else is here.” He looks bored as he nods to the boy and his mother. “Who are they?”

  “The woman is Lola’s mother. And the kid? Apparently, he’s Lola’s brother.”

  “No shit?” replies Cutter, genuinely surprised.

  “I didn’t know Lola had a younger brother,” says Sean.

  “Me, either.” Cocking my head to the side, I stare at them. “Which begs the question, how did we not know? I thought we did a background check on Lola?”

  “She needs to sit down,” states the kid as he wraps an arm around the woman and guides her through the house.

  I follow them, and he sits his mom at a dining table, then goes and gets her a can of Coke out of the refrigerator.

  “Lola didn’t tell you about me?” He sounds almost hurt and avoids looking at anyone but his pathetic mother.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Logan.”

  “It’s a good name. Means descendant of the warrior.”

  Logan scowls at me. “You made that up.”

  I shake my head. “Look it up. How old are you, Logan?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Have you seen Lola?”

  He shakes his head and glances down at his mother, who gives a slight shake of her head. Logan looks at the floor, he and his junkie mother avoiding all eye contact.

  I gesture to Cutter with a chin lift. “Sweep the house.”

  “What does that mean?” asks Logan.

  Pulling out a chair, I sit opposite his mother. “It means I don’t believe you. Cutter is going to rip this house apart until I find what I’m looking for.” Logan places a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “You know, kid, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “What way?”

  A loud crash sounds in the living room, and he goes running toward it.

  I take the opportunity to lean into Mrs. Cartland. Bad breath, sweat, and ammonia hit my senses, but I don’t recoil. “He’s going to find your stash.” Mrs. Cartland stands, and I block her way. “We’re going to take it, and then I’m going to have Sean here, sit with you and watch you go through withdrawal and not let you get another hit.”

  “No!”

  “Where the fuck is Lola?”

  “She’s not here.” She shakes her head from side to side.

  Logan comes back into the room, and Sean pushes him back.

  “Don’t hurt her. Mom, please tell them.”

  I peer over my shoulder. “If you know something, now is the time.”

  “David. It was David.”

  “You shut your mouth,” yells Mrs. Cartland.

  I grab her by the neck and walk her backward until she hits the wall. Then with my face an inch from hers, I hiss, “You tell me what I want to know. Now!”

  “Stop it, I’ll tell you.”

  With my lips turned down, I push on Mrs. Cartland’s neck and then step back. She makes a choking sound, and then Logan makes an animalistic noise. I turn around to find Sean holding him off with one arm.

  “Relax, kid. I didn’t hurt her.” I smirk. “But I will if you don’t give me what I want.”

  Cutter appears behind him and gives me wide eyes, knowing full well I won’t hurt a woman.

  “Dave was talking shit about Lola a couple of nights ago. They used to date. It’s him you want.”

  Sean lets his hand fall and steps into Logan’s space. “Does David have a last name?”

  “David Tucker.”

  “Where can we find him?” I ask.

  �
��He hangs at the bar on the corner of Long and South.”

  I nod. “Right, let’s roll.” I look at Logan. “You’re coming with us.”

  “He is?” asks Sean.

  “No, I’m not,” states Logan as he crosses his arms over his chest in some sort of defiant gesture.

  “I need him here,” says Mrs. Cartland loudly.

  I point at her. “You need to straighten out.” Walking toward Logan, I push him toward the front door. “Kid, you’re the only one who knows what this David Tucker looks like.”

  He stops, turns around on me, and shouts, “I’m not going.”

  “Kid, you don’t know me, but your sister is in trouble.”

  “Lola can take care of herself. She always has.”

  Cutter grabs the kid by the back of his neck. “Logan, is it? This is Kyle, and we do as he says. Why? Because he’s the President of the Loyal Rebels MC, and Lola, well… Lola belongs to him. So, get your skinny, white ass outside and do as you’re fucking told.”

  Cutter walks the kid outside, and I address Sean. “What do we do with her?”

  “Look at her, man, she’s wasted. She’ll be lucky if she even remembers we were here.”

  “Fuck you,” mutters Mrs. Cartland.

  I look around the small house. It’s filthy, and even though Cutter has pushed things over, it doesn’t make any different.

  “Call a prospect to come and babysit her.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “The kid doesn’t deserve this. Do you remember Dad?”

  Sean shakes his head. “No. I remember Da. He was the real parent.”

  Our parents were alcoholics, and Da was our grandfather, who stepped in to take care of us long before they were killed in a car accident.

  Sean pulls out his cell and walks outside.

  Spinning back, I look at Lola’s mom. “I’m sending a brother to keep an eye on you. I’m also going to put the word out that no one is to supply you anymore.”

  In a quiet voice, she says, “You can’t do that.”

  “I probably should’ve done it a long time ago.”

  Turning, I walk out the front door, pull down my shades from the top of my head, and climb on my bike.

  Logan’s on the back of Cutter’s bike and doesn’t look impressed. The scowl he’s sporting could cut steel.